


Replaceable, Irreplaceable

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Home and Away [15]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7830211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "any. Any. <i>Where will they go and where have they been? / They come from every corner / They come from our own lives.</i> (Pablo Neruda)"</p><p>Sheppard taking Atlantis leads to door being kicked in. SFs kick in Jonathan's door and ruin Evan's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Replaceable, Irreplaceable

“What am I going to have to take back to Atlantis with me?” Evan gazed at the box mournfully.  
  
Jonathan, going to push the box of letters under his bed where he kept the rings and sketchbooks Evan had given him, paused. “Back to Atlantis?”  
  
Evan sighed and sat back. “I’m sorry. It’s reflexive. All of us keep thinking it. Parrish has been assigned to a gate team finally. We were both on base when O’Neill and Woolsey dialed in with their regular update.” Evan had accepted a post as a staff officer, running logistics until the present logistics officer retired.  
  
“I can give you more music,” Jonathan offered. One of the benefits of being friends with Sheila and part of the local art scene was that he had connections for things like recording studios and whatever other strangeness he could concoct to gift to Evan.  
  
Evan reached out, cupped Jonathan’s face in his hands, smoothed his thumb over the line of Jonathan’s jaw. “I just - those letters feel like they’re part of me. Of us. Even if I wasn’t rereading them, just knowing they were there made me feel better. I’ll feel lonely without them in the frat house I call an apartment.”  
  
He was still living in an SGC-provided apartment with a bunch of other officers, some of them from Atlantis, most of them brand new at the SGC.  
  
“I think we made the right choice,” Jonathan said. He had a lifetime of making the right choice, the hard choice. He desperately wanted to make the wrong choice, the fun choice, but Evan still had his career to think of, his life to think of, and Jonathan understood that in a way not many other young men could.  
  
He didn’t feel young right then, though. He felt old and tired and worn down.  
  
“You should send me your shopping lists or grocery lists or something - without cute addenda, like making out in the coffee aisle,” Evan said.  
  
It warmed something inside Jonathan, though, to know that something as simple as his handwriting made Evan feel better.  
  
“I can do that,” Jonathan said. He turned his head, pressed a kiss to Evan’s palm. “When are you back on duty next?”  
  
“I’m working regular hours for once,” Evan said. “Monday through Friday, seven to five.”  
  
“It’s Friday night.” Jonathan smiled.  
  
“My roommates think I’m out with this fictional girlfriend of mine that Coughlin won’t shut up about. They’re not expecting me back till Sunday night.” Evan’s smile was wicked. “So I'm all yours.”  
  
“I like the sound of that.” Jonathan knew, of course, that a soldier belonged to the government, every inch and corner of his or her life, that even long after service the shadows of service lingered in the empty spaces in rooms and hallways, but tonight he was willing to let himself believe that Evan belonged to him and him alone.  
  
So he drew Evan into a kiss and down onto the bed, and together they chased the shadows away.  
  
Jonathan came awake when Evan came awake beside him, because Evan’s phone was buzzing on the nightstand like mad.  
  
Evan snatched it up by feel, and for one moment his face was illuminated in the blue glow of its screen before he said, muzzily, “Hello?”  
  
He must have accidentally hit the speakerphone button, because an unfamiliar voice exploded in the air beside Jonathan’s ear, and he winced.  
  
“Lorne, where the hell are you? What the hell did you do?”

“Didn’t do anything. Was sleeping. What’s going on, Captain?”   
  
It must have been one of Evan’s roommates.  
  
“SF’s from base just kicked down the door looking for you. Something to do with Atlantis. Dude, what the fuck?”  
  
“Atlantis?” Evan echoed.  
  
“Dumbass, don’t say it in front of your girlfriend.”  
  
Jonathan came awake even further. Evan said, “Are the SF’s still there? Tell them I’ll report to the Mountain ASAP.”  
  
“Yeah, you better stay on the line, because I think they’re coming for you,” Evan’s roommate said.  
  
Evan slid out of bed and immediately began groping for his clothes.  
  
Jonathan sat up, switched on the bedside lamp.  
  
And his bedroom door exploded open.  
  
Evan and Jonathan both reacted like they’d been trained, going for their weapons, raising them and aiming right at the intruders.  
  
Who were SFs, spilling into the room, weapons drawn.  
  
“Colonel O’Neill,” an airman said, and he came up short.  
  
Jonathan was buck naked and aiming a Desert Eagle .50 at him.  
  
Evan was wearing nothing but boxer briefs and aiming his M9 at the kid as well.  
  
“Major Lorne?” The kid stared.  
  
All the color drained out of Evan’s face.  
  
The kid tapped his radio. “Package is secure. Also, I found Major Lorne.” There was a crackle of static, orders, and the kid swallowed hard. “Yes sir. Colonel O’Neill, get dressed. We need you on standby at the Mountain.”  
  
“I am not Colonel O’Neill,” Jonathan said. “Jack O’Neill is, I believe, a Major General. I am Jonathan O’Neill and I am a private citizen and you have no right to come kicking in my door like you just did. Give me one good reason not to empty this clip into you right now.”  
  
“General O’Neill and Mr. Woolsey are trapped on Atlantis,” the airman said. “Replicators have attacked the city. Washington ordered me to bring you in so we have you on standby in case we need someone operate the Chair.”  
  
Jonathan, not for the first time, cursed his genetics. “What about Sheppard?”  
  
“Lieutenant-Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay, Dr. Weir, and Dr. Beckett stole a puddle jumper and crossed the Bridge to mount a rescue mission in Atlantis,” the airman said. “General Landry wants to question Major Lorne about the incident.” He darted a glance at Lorne again and swallowed hard. “Please. Just - put on some clothes.”  
  
A tinny voice emitted from Evan's phone where he'd dropped it on the ground.   
  
“Lorne, what’s your twenty? Lorne?”  
  
Jonathan kept his gun in hand while he skimmed on underwear, khakis, and a t-shirt. Evan’s hands shook as he dressed.  
  
“Sir,” the kid began when Jonathan tucked the gun into his waistband so he could pull on his shoes.  
  
“Am I a prisoner?” Jonathan demanded.  
  
“No, but -”  
  
“Am I under arrest?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Then I’m taking this with me.” Jonathan allowed the SFs to herd him out the front door and to the waiting black van.  
  
He darted a glance at Evan, who was silent, trembling ever so faintly. Evan gazed straight ahead, expression blank. Jonathan debated whether or not he ought to insist on sitting next to Evan, but the SFs made the decision for him, cramming themselves between him and Evan.  
  
Evan, Jonathan knew, was under suspicion of colluding with Sheppard. Evan was Sheppard's XO. Everyone knew that where Sheppard was an excellent commander on a wild frontier, Evan was the officer who made sure things got done, and if anyone could have coordinated something like this, it was Evan.  
  
Jonathan knew Evan hadn’t, though. He’d heard the confusion in Evan’s voice when he answered the phone. He wouldn’t have been so slow to wake had he been in on it.  
  
At the Mountain, the SFs separated them. They marched Evan toward one of the interrogation rooms - Jonathan knew them well - and Jonathan to Landry’s office.  
  
Hank looked like he was having the worst day of his life. He’d never been murdered and revived to be murdered all over again, so Jonathan wasn’t feeling all that sympathetic.   
  
The airman said, “Sir, this is Duplicate O’Neill.”  
  
Hank, who’d been pacing beside his desk, whipped around. He stared at Jonathan for a long time. They’d met at Air War College but not had much of a relationship before then. He hadn’t known Jack when Jack was this young.  
  
But he said, “Jack,” all the same.  
  
“Jonathan, actually.”  
  
Hank nodded at the airman and SFs, and they departed, closing the door behind them.

“Thank you for coming.”  
  
“I didn't come, your boys kicked down my door and dragged me from my house,” Jonathan said. “I’m sure you know that teenagers need an average of eight to nine hours of sleep a night, and I’m very displeased. Also, I’m sending you the bill for my door.”  
  
“The use of force was -”  
  
“Unnecessary,” Jonathan snarled. “A simple phone call would have been just fine.”  
  
“There are protocols in place -”  
  
“That you can override and you know it. Now what, I’m just supposed to sit here and cool my heels till Sheppard does his thing and the Old Guy comes home?”  
  
Hank raised his eyebrows. “You know about John Sheppard? And the situation on Atlantis? I didn't realize SG-1 still spoke to you.”  
  
He was sore about not knowing, Jonathan realized. Hammond had - wisely - kept Jonathan’s existence as classified as possible, and most people on base thought the Old Guy had just been temporarily shrunk for a while, and given the SGC’s history, that was explanation enough.  
  
“I could’ve moved to Timbuktu if I wanted,” Jonathan snapped. “They emancipated me. I stuck around here because I know how the game is played.”  
  
“You really would have answered a call.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“It’s not just cooling your heels,” Hank said. “If Jack doesn’t come back -”  
  
And it hit Jonathan, like a ton of bricks. “If he doesn’t come back, you’re going to dress me in blue and put me in his place.”  
  
“There's a lot you need to get up to speed on -”  
  
Jonathan shook his head. “No.”  
  
“You said you’d have answered the call.”  
  
“For a one-time spin in the Chair, fine. But not -”  
  
“You swore to serve your country.”  
  
“And my country tossed me aside and tried to forget me.”  
  
“Jack -”  
  
“ _Jonathan._ ”  
  
Before Hank could argue further, there was a knock at the door.  
  
“Come in,” Hank said.  
  
That nervous little airman stepped into the office. He approached Hank and leaned in, whispered. Jonathan saw surprise, shock cross Hank’s face, saw Hank stare at him in disbelief.  
  
The airman straightened up and backed away. “Whenever you’re ready, sir.”  
  
“I'll be there in a minute,” Hank said.  
  
The airman saluted and then hurried away.  
  
Hank stared at Jonathan for a long time. “You really aren't Jack, are you?”  
  
“We never know people as well as we think we do,” Jonathan said quietly.  
  
“O’Neill -”  
  
“When you sent those men to my house, they kicked down my door, but they fucked up someone else’s life.”  
  
“There are rules.”  
  
“He’s a good soldier and a damn fine officer.”  
  
Hank said nothing.  
  
Jonathan said, “Unlike Jack O’Neill, Evan Lorne is irreplaceable.”  
  
Hank raised his eyebrows.  
  
Jonathan lifted his chin. “Show me those files you wanted me to get up to speed on.”


End file.
